9 comments/ 19847 views/ 8 favorites Snow Chance By: rachlou Flurries of snow whirled down from a leaden sky. I glanced up as I trekked across the car park, my sexy shoes doing nothing to protect my feet from the frigid carpet of white snow that was already blanketing the grimy concrete; then I shivered. It was freezing out here and it wasn't even five o'clock yet. If the weather carried on in this vein, the traffic was going to be horrendous. Ordinarily, I would have been looking forward to a quiet evening in, but tonight I had the prospect of a long drive to some anonymous hotel down south. The thought of three days listening to some mindless dirge about management crap hardly filled me with joy and if I could have gotten out of it, I would have. But my boss had purposefully pulled me to one side the previous week and let me know in no uncertain terms that he wanted me on the course. "Who else is going?" I'd asked with an expression I hoped resembled enthusiasm. "Tom Jameson," he said. At least Tom was reasonable company, I thought miserably, even if he did insist on talking about football most of the time. "Oh yes, and Kyle is also going," he added with a smile. My face froze. Now that was hardly a good turn of events. Kyle was an arrogant bastard and I couldn't stand him. Every time we had to work together, we clashed. I wasn't sure why he wound me up so much, he just did. Some days he only had to glance at me with that look he had perfected, the one that said he knew women found him irresistible. It was enough to make me want to empty a mug of coffee all over his perfectly groomed head. Which I had done one memorable meeting... "Wow, that's great," I replied, sounding less than happy even to my own ears. "You know, Louise," my boss commented, "It's about time you and Kyle buried the hatchet. Perhaps you can sort things out before you return to the office next week?" He fixed me with a level stare and I had the distinct impression it was a warning as opposed to a polite suggestion. "Absolutely." I smiled with enough wattage to drain the national grid. Over my dead body, I thought grimly once he'd left me alone. I'd rather chew my own leg off! By the time I reached my car and spent five minutes trying to locate my key from amongst the miscellaneous crap inside my bag, the snow was falling thick and fast. I fell into the driver's seat trying not to think about the state of my lovely cream suede shoes I had spent a bloody fortune on, less than a week ago. Thrusting the key into the ignition, I waited for the engine to fire up and the heat to begin blasting out of the vents. But nothing happened other than an ominous grating noise, followed by a deathly silence. Crap. Now I was stuck here, unable to move, and I hadn't renewed my RAC membership last month. Crap. Crap. CRAP! I was just contemplating having a nervous breakdown when a tapping on my window attracted my attention and I looked up with irritation. To add insult to injury, it was bloody Kyle standing there in his Paul Smith suit, looking like he just stepped off the front cover of Maxim magazine. "Having car trouble?" he asked sweetly when I grudgingly opened the door. "No, not at all, I was just meditating before the long drive," I snapped. Praying my car miraculously revived, I tried turning the key again, but once again there was just a horrible grating sound. "Sounds terminal to me," he commented helpfully. "You better not stay here any longer—you look like you're feeling the cold." I looked up to see him staring at my chest. With a flush of embarrassment I realised that my coat had fallen open and my nipples were pressing prominently against the thin silk of my blouse. "So do you," I retaliated, looking meaningfully at his crotch. Two could play at that game. Still, he had a point. It was obvious I wasn't going to achieve anything sitting here in the snow. I needed to go and sort a taxi out. If I caught a train, I would be in Cheltenham before midnight, all being well. Thankfully the bloody hotel was 5* and I could sooth my temper with some beauty treatments charged to my expense account. It was the least my Boss could do to compensate me for the stress of spending three days with Kyle Dexter. "Where are you going?" he asked in surprise when I shoved him out of the way using my laptop bag. "To the station," I said. "Louise, don't be daft, we can travel down together." "I'd rather share a car with Hannibal Lector," I muttered right before I slipped on some black ice. "Careful, it's icy!" A strong arm grabbed me and I caught a tempting whiff of aftershave. "Anyway, you're coming with me and I won't take no for an answer," Kyle growled with a steely edge to his usually smooth voice. I couldn't help but wonder how many times he'd said that before some bimbo dropped her knickers and swooned with orgasmic delight. "Mr Robinson would not be very amused if you missed the beginning of the course due to public transport malfunctions." He was right, of course. I was cutting my nose off to spite my face. Spending three hours in Kyle's luxurious BMW as opposed to five hours on a crowded, smelly train? It was a no-brainer really. "Ok, I suppose I could travel down with you," I grumbled less than graciously. "But really, you can let go of my arm now." I felt certain that the heat of his fingers had already left a permanent impression on my skin. "Great!" he grinned, releasing me rather reluctantly. "I'm sure we can find something interesting to talk about on the way there." I doubted that, but I couldn't be bothered to argue any more. My feet were wet and I was still pissed off about my car. So I stood silently as he manfully grabbed my bags—then smirked when he almost slipped on the same patch of ice that had caught me out. "Careful," I said sweetly, "It's icy!" * Despite my antipathy towards Kyle, it wasn't long before I felt my irritation recede in the face of such a luxurious mode of transport. The knowledge that he had saved me from the fate worse than death that was commonly known as British Rail cuisine, somewhat softened my prickly attitude towards him. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all. Maybe I had misjudged him? "By the way," he said, interrupting my train of thought, "I had a note from one of the administrators just as I was leaving. It said the hotel's been overbooked, so we might have to share a room for tonight." I nearly shot out of my seat in horror. "What?!" "Don't worry, I rang them straight away and told them that as compensation we expected the best suite they had. You know, seeing as how we're newly weds." It took me a few very long seconds to realise that he was joking. "You arsehole." He laughed as he manoeuvred the car down the slip road on to the M6. The snow grew ever thicker and I silently thanked God for the precision of German engineering. If I had been in my car, I would have been sliding all over the place by now. Kyle's car barely noticed the slippery slush beneath its tyres. "It's getting worse," he commented after a few more miles during which the flow of traffic grew ever slower. "No, really?" My sarcasm was apparently lost on him for he added, "Yeah, looks like we might get there rather late." I stared out of the window and ignored him. "I bet Tom's counting his blessings he had to cancel." "He's not coming?" That wasn't exactly great news. I had been counting on Tom to act as referee for the next three days. "No, his wife went into labour this afternoon." "Oh no, poor Lucy." I knew she wasn't due for another month, so I hoped everything was ok. I suddenly felt rather ashamed of my silly tantrums. What exactly did I have to complain about when I was toddling off to a swanky hotel while other people were dealing with all kinds of crap? I mulled over that for a while before deciding to ignore all of Kyle's most obvious faults and make an effort to be pleasant to him for the duration of our course. It was the adult thing to do after all. "So, how's your girlfriend these days?" I asked by way of polite conversation. "She walked out about four months ago." It was kind of a conversation stopper really. "Oh, I'm sorry," I said honestly. It wasn't a nice thing to happen to anyone, even though I imagined he had probably deserved it. Poor woman had probably put up with hell. "Thanks," he replied in a subdued voice. "I was rather gutted at the time." I glanced sideways at him, slightly surprised at the sudden display of feelings. The Kyle I knew (and hated) was all swagger and testosterone, not a man who was exactly in touch with his emotional side. "What happened?" I couldn't help but ask curiously. He shrugged as we slowed down to a crawl behind what looked like miles of stationery traffic. "We wanted different things, I guess. I was ready to settle down, but she was utterly against kids and stuff. I hoped she would change her mind when she fell pregnant, but no, it wasn't what she wanted. So she went away and killed what we had left. By the time I caught up with her, it was too late." "Shit, that's awful." I could barely get my head around what he was telling me. I was suddenly forced to reassess everything I thought I knew about him and it was most unsettling. He shrugged. "Things happen for a reason." "Maybe," I conceded. Frankly I thought that was bullshit, but I didn't want to pick yet another fight with him. "Not sure if my car breaking down comes under that heading, though. I reckon that was down to rubbish French automotive technology, rather than fate." He was smiling when I turned towards him again and I felt a shiver run through me that had nothing to do with the ambient temperature in the car. "Maybe," he said, fixing me with a long stare before we both jumped as the traffic bulletin interrupted the music channel. "...six miles of grid-locked traffic...major disruption due to unprecedented levels of snow falling across most parts of the UK..." And so it went on and on and on. "I hope you've got some blankets in the boot," I grumbled. "At this rate we'll be stuck on this bloody motorway all night!" "Bollocks to that," Kyle replied. "We're only a mile from the next exit, so I'm getting off this road to Hell." With a sharp turn left, he cut past all the traffic and drove down the hard shoulder, the heavy car making deep tracks through the drifting snow. When I looked behind us, I saw that several other drivers had decided to follow. We headed up the slip road and reached a large junction. "Left or right?" he asked. "No idea—I don't know the area." "Okay, left it is. There must be a hotel or something around here." "Hotel?" "Yeah, hotel. There's no point in trying to make Cheltenham tonight. We'll end up stuck somewhere and I have no intention of freezing my arse off in the car all night, even if the present company would go a long way towards keeping me warm." The idea of sleeping in his car didn't appeal to me either—I preferred at least a few locked doors between us and the close proximity of our current arrangement was not conducive to a restful night. I also decided to ignore the reference to me keeping him warm. I'd sooner sleep with Frosty the bloody Snowman before keeping any parts of his anatomy toasty, despite his startling revelations earlier. A leopard doesn't change its spots that easily, I thought. The roads were almost deserted as we headed towards the nearest large town. Everything glittered white as huge fat flakes continued to fall. It was hard to differentiate where exactly the road was, but Kyle steered the car with precision accuracy, managing to avoid any collisions with stationery objects. If it weren't so dangerous, it would have been picture postcard perfect. I almost wished I were a kid again so that I could look forward to a day of sledging tomorrow. Sadly I was thirty-two, not twelve, and therefore a bit old for that. "Isn't it lovely?" Kyle commented, reading my mind. "Yeah." I smiled to myself, remembering all the times I had been shoved down 1:3 hills by my brothers. "Reminds me of when I was a kid and we used to go sledging in the peak district when it snowed." I laughed. "Me too! I was always the one who fell off half way down the hill." "I bet you still looked cute though," he said. Normally I would have taken his comment as the usual flirting designed to distract me from the real agenda of work, but this time I wasn't so sure. It wasn't as if we were competing in the office now and this was new territory to me. I had always avoided any social interaction with him in the past, both because he annoyed me, and because I preferred my life outside work to stay private. So I chose to ignore the compliment. "Ooh look, there's a hotel." A large sign, half obscured by snow, stood by the side of the road. Dovecote Manor County House Hotel sounded half decent judging by the multitude of little stars beneath the fancy scripted letters. "That'll do." We drove down the sweeping drive bordered by tall elm trees, their branches groaning beneath the weight of snow in the distance. A few moments later, we could see the twinkling lights of a large building. "I think it's rather posh." It resembled something out of a lavish BBC costume melodrama. Any moment now, Helena Bonham-Carter was going to appear in a horse drawn carriage. Kyle grinned. "Just as well it's going on expenses, then." Well, the weather is awful, I thought. I just prayed this place didn't turn out to be £600 a night, or something equally ridiculous. Still, it was too late now. "I hope the food is good—I'm starving," I grumbled with great feeling. Dinner had been a digestive biscuit in between meetings several hours ago. * I melted in the heat from the huge fire blazing away nearby as we stood by the desk waiting for the receptionist to decide whether they were full. She beamed happily. "You're very lucky—it looks like we have one room left!" I blanched. She was smiling in a vaguely star-struck way at Kyle. "We're not usually this busy mid week, so I think we've gained a few unexpected customers after the pile-up on the motorway. It'll probably take hours to clear with all this snow." "Are you sure you don't have another room available?" I asked. "We're not—" "Don't worry, your virtue is safe with me," Kyle interrupted, patting my hand in a condescending way. The receptionist stared at us in surprise; it was immediately apparent she had assumed we were a couple. By the way she glanced admiringly at Kyle again, before giving me an utterly bemused look, I intuited that she thought I was seriously deranged for not wanting to sleep with Kyle. It was blindingly obvious she did. "Surely you must have something else?" I asked in desperation. "Even a twin room would be better than a...double." I couldn't bring myself to say the word bed. It seemed too graphic somehow. "No, I'm really sorry, Madame, but there is nothing else left." She did in fact seem genuinely apologetic. Or maybe that was because she was hoping I'd piss off and she could take my place. "You could always try somewhere else? The might be rooms in the motel at Monkton..." "No, forget it," Kyle said firmly before I could say another word. "I'm not driving anywhere else tonight. I'm shagged." He smiled at me innocently and I glared back at him. "Then I'll suppose it'll have to do," I muttered crossly. I grabbed the key-card from the girl's hand and flounced off, leaving Kyle with our bags. Just because I was stuck sharing a room with him, it didn't mean I had to pretend to like it. If there was a hard, lumpy sofa in the corner of our room, he could bloody sleep on that tonight. * The room was small, but very opulent. Unfortunately, there was nothing in it that Kyle could sleep on other than a thick rug beneath the tall, sash window. Still, it was a possibility, I mused. It depended on how much he annoyed me before we settled down for the night. Aware that he would not be too far behind me, I dived into the bathroom and locked the door. I needed some time to collect my thoughts without him distracting me. If he wanted a shower, he could wait. It wouldn't kill him. There was bound to be a bar downstairs where he could pull some brain-dead Barbie. Better still, she might have a spare space in her bed and I could have a restful night on my own. "Louise? Are you in there?" I heard a knocking on the door, but I ignored it while I concentrated on filling the huge, claw footed bath with scented potions. I was still furious at him for refusing to look elsewhere for a hotel that could offer us separate bedrooms, even though I knew that he had been right—the weather really was too bad to contemplate driving any further tonight. "Ok, you're mad with me. Well that's fine, you have a nice bath. When you feel human again, we can get something to eat. Want to hear what's on the menu?" At the mention of food, my stomach began to growl furiously. The bastard. He was doing it deliberately! My imagination conjured up all kinds of tempting dishes that might be on the menu. Just the thought of a lovely, rare steak, was making me drool. "No, I'm not hungry," I yelled. I stripped of my clothes and climbed in the scalding water. "Liar!" I could hear his laughter echoing through the door. When my skin began to wrinkle like a prune and I was in danger of falling asleep, I finally emerged from the cooling water. It was only then that I realised I had no clean clothes to put on. I didn't even have a complimentary bathrobe to wear as they were still hanging in the wardrobe—on the other side of the bathroom door. It seemed like I had no choice but to wrap myself up in one of the fluffy towels and brave Kyle. I had no doubt that he would find it highly amusing to see me half naked. Still, if I had my way, it would be the only chance he got. "I thought you'd drowned in there," he commented irritably when I walked back into our room. He was lying on the bed with a bored expression while the television waffled on in the background. His eyes widened slightly when he saw my attire, and he smiled appreciatively. I ignored him and proceeded to open my small case. "You should have asked," he said helpfully, "And I would have brought one of the robes in for you." Yes, like I was going to allow you in the bathroom while I was naked, I thought. Was he living in a parallel universe? "You're too kind." "Always," he replied with a predatory smile. Then before I could say another word, he had dived into the bathroom and turned the shower on. At least it left me in peace to decide what I was going to wear. Not that it mattered really. It was already fairly late and we would probably be lucky to get a snack from the bar. Besides, I wasn't trying to impress Kyle. So with that in mind, I threw on some jeans and a blouse: casual, but not too scruffy. It wasn't the Holiday Inn, after all. I was brushing my hair when he emerged with all the swagger of a man who knows he's God's gift to the female population. Humming a tune, he strode across the room with a towel around his waist so small I could have sworn it was one of the face flannels. Despite my disgust at his blatant peacock display, my eyes were inevitably drawn to his fine physique. There was a man who put some serious hours in at the gym. He wasn't overly muscular, which I hated, but every muscle he had was beautifully defined. Broad shoulders and narrow hips, together with strong thighs, combined to make the most perfect specimen of manhood I had seen in a long time. What a pity I hated him. My hairbrush fell to the floor one tenth of a nanosecond after Kyle's towel dropped from his waist, leaving his gloriously naked backside reflected in the mirror. I was hypnotised. As much as I wanted to look away, I couldn't. It was pure torture on my good intentions. Fully aware that I was watching him, Kyle slowly and deliberately turned around so that I was granted a full frontal shot. Inevitably, my eyes slid from his chest until I was staring right at the part of his anatomy he was obviously—and justifiably I might add—proud of. Snow Chance "You've dropped your hairbrush," he said softly, his smoky blue eyes drawing mine back up his body. "And you've dropped your towel," I snapped when I saw the way he was smirking triumphantly. My trance abruptly broken, I grabbed my makeup bag and I stormed into the bathroom for some respite, slamming the door shut behind me. For the second time in an hour, I heard him laughing at me. God, I hated that man so much. But for the sake of my stomach, I decided to call a truce once my hands had stopped shaking long enough for me to apply some mascara. With my war paint in place, I re-emerged and announced I was heading down for some food if he felt like joining me. "It would be my pleasure," he smiled, giving a great impression that nothing untoward had happened and we were merely colleagues. "Fine, let's go then." I picked my purse up and strode out of our room, trying to think about food instead of the one thing my traitorous mind actually wanted to dwell on—in glorious Technicolor detail. It sure wasn't easy when the man in question had chosen to wear a pair of trousers that hugged his muscular frame to perfection. "Hungry?" he asked as we stepped into a waiting elevator. "Yes," I replied, examining my nails with studied nonchalance. "Me too," he said as the elevator reached the reception area and he followed me out. There was something in the tone of his voice that sent the small hairs on the back of my neck standing to attention and I looked back at him warily. His gaze was firmly fixed on my backside and I suddenly wished my jeans weren't quite as figure hugging. Still, it served him right after his little show earlier. So in the interests of payback, I accidentally dropped my purse and bent over slowly to pick it up. When I looked at him next, his eyes were almost black and he looked vaguely uncomfortable. Ha, I thought, two could play at that game! I allowed a small smile to grace my lips as we walked into the restaurant. * Five glasses of wine and a rare steak cooked to perfection later, I was feeling considerably more magnanimous towards Kyle. It helped that he had, since the dubious comment by the elevator, behaved impeccably. I was almost beginning to wonder if perhaps I had imagined all his previous transgressions to my honour. Well almost. I did keep on having rather alarming flashbacks to the moment his towel dropped in the room earlier. In fact, I blamed the flashbacks for my alcohol consumption. Blitzing my brain with Rioja was the only way I could stop myself from thinking about his body and the way he... But no, I wasn't thinking about that! I drained my sixth glass and eyed the empty bottle between us. "Shall I order another bottle, or have you had enough?" His eyes twinkled with amusement and I suddenly realised I was becoming seriously inebriated. "I think, possibly, that I shouldn't have any more," I concluded belatedly. "Pudding?" He passed me the dessert menu. The dishes on offer were not designed for those on a diet that much was obvious. "Blimey, I'd need a week at a fat camp if I ate one of these!" "Rubbish!" he scolded. "I like a woman with curves and you have..." He paused for a moment, his eyes sliding down my body like liquid fire. "Very delicious curves." He grinned at my furiously blushing cheeks before perusing his own menu. The heat of his gaze had me melting into a puddle on my chair. The wine I had drunk without due care and attention served only to cloud my judgement and I was left wondering why I hated him so when he was capable of making me feel so damned horny? So I buried my face behind my menu and tried to reason with my traitorous body. This was dangerous. Just because Kyle had shown me a side of him that was vulnerable it didn't mean that he was a nice guy! So far, in all the time we had worked together, the evidence strongly suggested he was the complete opposite. In fact, the words Male Chauvinist Arsehole sprang to mind more often than not. "I'll have the fruit salad," I squeaked when my face had cooled down. "And I'll have the cheese platter," he told the hovering waiter. Conversation moved on to neutral territory and I slowly relaxed again, in between sipping iced water in an attempt to sober up before I did something I knew I would regret. Outside the snow continued to fall and reminded me that we were supposed to be starting the course tomorrow. "I wonder if many others managed to make the journey to the hotel," I mused. He shrugged. "Don't know, but one of us better call them in the morning to let then know the state of affairs." The word "affairs" sent a delicious frisson through my already overheated body and I nearly choked on a purple grape. "Are you ok?" Kyle passed me another glass of water as I coughed like a pit pony. "I think so," I managed to regain some composure. "It went down the wrong way." "Try swallowing next time." There was a suspicious twinkle in his eye and my mind immediately did some lateral movement into X rated territory. "I think I'll go visit the loo," I coughed hurriedly. I really needed some space from him. This was becoming ridiculous. Talk about cabin fever. One night with Kyle and I was morphing into a sex starved nymphomaniac. The polished mirror in the deserted ladies room confirmed what I already suspected. My normally sleek, mahogany hair was dishevelled and my face was flushed and glowing. Most people had probably taken one look and assumed I had just rolled out of bed following a torrid romp. The worst of it was that I was spending far too much time wishing that was indeed the case. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I asked my reflection angrily. "The man is a tosser, yet you can't stop imagining what he would be like in the sack!" A toilet flushed and I froze with horror. Oh bugger. Now I had been caught talking to myself. Could the evening get any worse? "Just go for it, dear," advised the old lady who emerged from the nearby cubicle. "He might be a total stud." I was speechless. This lady looked like Her Majesty's twin sister, yet here she was offering me advice worthy of the agony page in Cosmo! "You think I should?" Well, I had to ask. "Definitely." She pulled a powder compact from her voluminous bag and patted her papery complexion. "He's gorgeous and if I were forty years younger, I'd give you a run for your money!" "Erm, thanks," I said as she threw me a gleeful smile and left. I couldn't quite get my head around the fact some old biddy was strongly urging me to shag Kyle, but I knew she had a point. He was gorgeous even if he was a tosser. Maybe I should just overlook his more obvious personality defects and focus on his good points, like his physical attributes. Maybe that would sort this out once and for all. I sat down on a hard chair and pondered. Could I trust him to not brag about it should anything untoward happen? I had no great desire to be the talking point of company memos for the next millennium and inter company dalliances were usually frowned upon by senior management. "Aggghhh!" Why was I even contemplating this? It was suicide! What I needed was to go to bed and sleep. I seriously didn't need the complication of shagging Kyle bloody Dexter no matter how sexy he was. * "I'm pretty tired, so I think I'll head to bed," I said with a huge, fake yawn once dinner was over. Kyle looked sympathetic. "I know what you mean, I'm pretty whacked too and it's going to be a long day tomorrow with all those seminars they've got planned for us." Bugger. I was hoping he would stay down in the bar and allow me to escape to our room in peace. The plan was that I would then be asleep by the time he came up, and therefore not thrust into the path of temptation, so to speak. "Well I'll leave you to finish your drink." I grabbed my purse and jumped up. "Don't rush!" Before he had a chance to pass comment, I was gone. The lift door slid shut behind me and I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Once back in our room, I threw my clothes off and thanked God I had had the foresight to pack some comfortable cotton pj's as opposed to my typical satin slip. In record time, with teeth scrubbed and make-up removed, I was tucked up in bed like an old granny. It did occur to me, however, that the old granny I had bumped into earlier was probably out clubbing by now rather than sipping her cocoa. Then there was a loud tapping on the door. Grumbling crossly, I clambered back out of bed and peered through the peephole to see who it was. Unsurprisingly, it was Kyle. "I don't have a key," he informed me, not looking too upset by this. "Surely the desk has a spare?" I muttered. I could feel his eyes boring a hole in my back as I headed back to the bed. "Apparently not." "Well never mind, you're here now." I rolled over and closed my eyes, deciding that ignoring him was probably the best policy. "Good night." He disappeared into the bathroom and I relaxed a fraction. Then he came back out wearing only a pair of tight cotton boxers. It took every ounce of will power I had not to look. I probably deserved sainthood. "You're gonna have to move over, Louise," he said lightly. "I'm sure as hell not sleeping on the floor." "What?" I was outraged. "I'm not sharing this bed with you!" "Tough shit, you have no choice." The tone of his voice suggested he wasn't going to argue with me and I bristled with anger. But he ignored my histrionics and jumped beneath the duvet before turning the lamp off. "Sweet dreams," he whispered as the room was plunged into soft darkness. I lay on my half of the bed, as close to the edge as I could manage without falling out, my body rigid with tension. My skin prickled with nervous sweat while my mind whirled with what I feverishly imagined was about to happen. I wanted to roll over, to make myself more comfortable, but I didn't dare move a muscle in case Kyle took it as an invitation to pounce on my bones. God, this was torture. The minutes dragged on as the sound of my own heart pounded like a road drill inside my chest, obliterating the minutiae of noises emanating from adjacent rooms. Eventually, I couldn't stand it anymore. I resisted thumping the mattress in frustration and instead rolled towards Kyle, expecting to see him grinning at me like a panther in the dark. Instead, his eyes were closed and he was breathing slowly and rhythmically. It didn't take me long to work out that the bastard had fallen asleep. I felt like strangling him. I had worked myself up into a lather for nothing! I didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. One thing was certain, though—he might have been sleeping like a baby, but I sure as hell wasn't feeling tired any more. So I plumped my pillow and curled my body away from him in a vain attempt to relax enough for sleep. It was going to be a very long night. * When I woke up, my first thought was, where the hell am I?I opened my eyes blearily, a vague residual ache from all the wine I had drunk, throbbing behind my temples. It was only when I tried to move that I realised a heavy arm was across my hip and a warm body was wrapped around me. I froze, all traces of sleep obliterated. Carefully, gingerly, I grasped his arm and attempted to release his grip on me, but he murmured in my ear and tightened his hold even further. It looked like I was trapped unless I screamed the place down and woke him and everyone else up. As I contemplated what to do next, his hand began to slide up my ribcage until it reached the swell of my breast. My body was rigid with tension. Surely he couldn't still be asleep? And if he was, why couldn't he just lie back and snore like a normal man! I wiggled against him, desperate to move away. Knowing that his virtually naked body was hard up against me, and yes, hard was a very accurate description despite him apparently being asleep, I was beginning to respond in ways that I was deeply uncomfortable about. This wasn't supposed to happen! The more I wiggled, the more he held me tightly, his mouth brushing lightly against my neck. I could smell the scent of his skin, that oh so masculine aroma that excited my senses against my better judgement. Then I had a thought. Surely if he was still asleep, I could just enjoy this for a while? After all, it wasn't like he would ever know unless he did wake up. And if he did, I could just pretend to be asleep and then berate him for taking advantage of me. It was a stupid idea really. Even I knew that, but unfortunately, a large part of me didn't want to move. It had been ages since I had been so intimate with a man. Ok, so Kyle was about as far from ideal as it was possible to get, but hell, we weren't talking relationship here. I relaxed as he continued to hold me tightly, the tension gradually seeping away from my body. It felt good, it really did. I didn't like to examine why I was doing such a U-turn after everything I had previously thought about Kyle. Sometimes it was good to stop thinking too much, I decided as I closed my eyes and began to surrender to sleep once more. Just as I was dropping back into the land of nod, his hand slid upwards and brushed across my nipple lightly before sliding back down and cupping the curve of my breast. I bit back a faint moan and fought the urge to push against him. I knew he was still hard; I could feel it pressing into the curve of my bottom. That knowledge seriously wasn't helping me at all. Damn him. Now I was wide awake again, burning up with frustration. My breathing sounded ragged even to me and I made a conscious effort to try and relax, but the errant hand continued on its casual exploration of my body, apparently working on its own volition. It edged beneath my pyjama top and found its way back up to my breasts. This time I was unable to prevent myself from moaning. Rough fingers stroked my tender skin and I burned up from within like a firecracker. "You feel so sexy," Kyle murmured in my ear and it was only then that I knew he was awake and probably had been all along. Immediately, common sense kicked in and I struggled to escape from his clutches. "You bastard!" I hissed angrily. Instead of allowing me to go, he grabbed me and rolled me on to my back, the weight of him pressing me into the soft mattress as his mouth pressed urgently against mine. He kissed me until I couldn't think straight and the thought of smacking him over the head with a blunt instrument was vanquished. His hand pushed my pyjama top up to reveal my breasts and before I could offer a token protest his lips had found my nipples, tasting first one and then the other. It was pure, sweet bliss. The ache between my thighs grew ever more intense. I wanted him to touch me, to release me from this torment, but still my head fought to overrule my body. "We can't do this," I tried to say. "But we are doing this," was his succinct reply. His lips reached the edge of my pyjama bottoms and I lost all power of rational thinking. He tugged them down my trembling thighs and I nearly screamed when his tongue brushed across my clit like a feather. I couldn't think, hell, I couldn't breath! All I could do was wrap my legs around his head and surrender to the ecstasy of what he was doing to me. When the first spasms hit me, I arched my back and closed my eyes. The hotel room faded away and I cried out with release, each ripple of pleasure taking me further than the last, until I was left shaking and damp with sweat, completely and utterly spent. At that point, he moved back up the bed and pulled me on top of him. My pyjama top was yanked from me and I leaned forwards until my naked breasts brushed his mouth, tempting him. He groaned as he took one hard nipple between his teeth and sucked gently. I groaned too as new sparks of desire flickered through my body, then I drew back from his mouth and moved down his body, suddenly eager to taste what I had seen the previous evening. His cock was waiting for me, throbbing with eager desire. When I brushed my fingers across the thick, rigid length of him, he stiffened even further. Firmly pushing any residual doubts I still had to the darkest recesses of my mind, I pulled his boxers down and his cock sprang free. The first taste was sublime. It was a struggle, but I slowly enveloped his eager cock in my mouth and proceeded to explore every inch of him. I listened to his moans of appreciation and used my hands to explore the rest of his body. It was easy to forget all the times we had clashed as I enjoyed every delicious part of him. I knew that I could have stopped—I was the one in control now—but I realised that I truly didn't want to stop. Whatever happened next was out of my hands. Besides, I was having too much fun and I didn't want it to end. "God woman, stop!" he gasped eventually. "Are you sure?" I asked with one last teasing flick of my tongue. He pulled me back up by way of an answer and I was left straddling him while he stared at me in the pale dawn light. "I want you so badly," he said in a low voice. "I have done for ages now." "Then take me," I whispered recklessly. He reached up and pushed a stray tendril of hair from my cheek, before pulling me down until our lips met in a slow, deep kiss. As his tongue found mine, I felt him push inside me and I sighed with pleasure. When he was fully sheathed within me, he began to move. I rocked my hips in sync with him, consumed with urgency once more. He rolled us over, his mouth found my breasts again, and I arched my back, closing my eyes in bliss. It felt like we had been made for each other, a perfect fit in every sense of the word. I sank my teeth into his shoulder when I came again, in an attempt to smother the maelstrom of emotions inside me that threatened to bubble up out of control. A moment later he groaned loudly and collapsed across me, his breathing ragged much like mine. It was ages before I could formulate a coherent thought. "I'm not sure if that was on the course itinerary," Kyle commented as he pulled me into the hollow of his shoulder. "But if it isn't, it damned well should be!" He bent his head to kiss me again and for some strange reason, the course itinerary was soon forgotten. It really didn't seem that important in the grand scheme of things. It was only some considerable time later that it occurred to both of us we still hadn't formally informed the course organisers where exactly we were. Kyle rooted through his bag, searching for the paperwork that had the relevant telephone numbers on while I admired the view of his naked backside. A short call later and he grinned before throwing the phone back in his bag. "We're off the hook," he announced. "The course has been postponed due to unforeseen weather problems." "Damn," I remarked. "Whatever are we going to do now?" "I'm sure we can find something to pass the time..." I couldn't help but wonder if this was what our boss had meant when he suggested I 'sort things out' with Kyle. Somehow, I had a sneaking suspicion it probably wasn't. But by the time we checked out three days later, I was past caring. The hatchet had been buried for good.